Did you know that we have just concluded National Volunteer Week? This year’s observance was April 15-21. National Volunteer Week was created in 1974 when President Richard Nixon signed an executive order to establish the week as an annual celebration of volunteering. And every year since that time, each U.S. President, along with many governors, mayors and other elected officials, has signed a proclamation promoting National Volunteer Week. This special week offers opportunities to thank some of America’s most valuable assets — our volunteers — and to recognize the myriad of ways they improve our communities. National Volunteer Week reflects the power that volunteers have to "inspire by example." (http://www.pointsoflight.org/programs/seasons/nvw/)

Months ago in staff meeting, we decided to plan a special day to recognize our wonderful volunteers. Without volunteers, this church would be reliant upon paid staff for every accomplishment. Without volunteers, we would not do nearly as much.

Acknowledging the context of National Volunteer Week, I’d like to mention the context of today’s gospel passage. On Easter Sunday night, Jesus had appeared to ten disciples in an upper room and then to those same ten plus Thomas. Now the author of our text indicated that Jesus showed himself again to some disciples at the Sea of Tiberias, which is actually the Roman name for the Sea of Galilee. While eleven had gathered in the Jerusalem Upper Room for the previous appearance of Jesus, now seven, Simon Peter, Thomas, Nathaniel, James, John and two other disciples, had traveled the 75 miles back to Galilee. Simon showed some leadership and said, "I’m going fishing." This was more than a leisurely troll out into the water. Remember, Simon Peter had been a fisherman before becoming a disciple of Jesus. He was going back to work; Simon Peter had decided to return to life as it was before he had met Jesus.

And how did the disciples respond to Simon Peter? They all said, "Me too." At least three of the named disciples had a fishing business before they had been called by Jesus.

They fished all night and did not catch anything. That had to have been frustrating. At least three of them knew how to fish; they knew how to judge the water. This was familiar territory for them; they were fishing the same Sea which they had fished for years. They knew migratory patterns of certain kinds of fish. They knew what areas to avoid. Yet they still caught nothing.

In Kenbridge, where we lived before moving to Hampton, we had some good friends that had farm ponds. They would throw their old Christmas Trees into the ponds and later the fish would lay their eggs near those submerged Christmas Trees. Because we knew the locations of the sunken trees and because we remembered that we had almost always caught fish around those specific areas, we knew we could almost always catch something near those fallen trees. If we couldn’t catch fish in other parts of the pond, we’d always go back to where we’d at least get a bite.

These disciples knew those kinds of places in the Sea of Tiberias. They went back to the familiar places, yet after fishing all night, did not catch any fish. People often fail because that which is comfortable seduces them into not moving forward to try again.

After sunrise, an unrecognizable voice called from the water’s edge, "Having any luck out there?" Even today, this is very common among fishermen; sometimes the question from one fisherman to another is bait to reciprocate with the same question. If one fisherman has had a good day, he might ask, "How’d you do today?" to another fisherman so he can brag about his big haul. Other times, fishermen ask the question to find where the fish are biting.

A few years ago, my brother-in-law took our children bass fishing at South Holston Lake near Abingdon. After catching some fish, Ally, Samuel, and Uncle Larry went to the local bait and tackle shop; I’m not sure Larry needed anything. He wanted to tell others about the fish they’d caught, but also to reel in his buddies at the store. Larry told Ally and Samuel his plan, and they executed it beautifully.

As they entered, someone said, "Hey Larry, did you catch any fish?"

"Sure did. Caught some nice ones."

"Where’d you catch ‘em?"

And then Samuel stepped forward, while hooking his ring finger inside his cheek and pulling it back said, "Right here."

Jesus’ question of the disciples regarding their catch was neither an opportunity for him to brag about the amount of fish he had caught nor the petition for him to find where the big fish were located, but he did have a motive for his inquiry. He already knew they had fished all night and caught nothing. For the disciples to find a solution, they had to confess that they had a problem. Those who are familiar with twelve steps programs know that acknowledgment of the problem is a crucial component in healing.

In response to the question, "Caught any fish?" with heads down and dejected voices, the disciples answered, "Nothing." The finality of their response spoke to their frustration from the futility of furthering the familiar. The realization that going back to what once worked was not the answer to their emptiness provided an exclamation mark to their languish. They didn’t know what to do. They were fishermen, then disciples, and in their minds, they couldn’t do either anymore.

And then the voice from the shoreline said, "Don’t give up. Try again. Give it another shot. If you think you are defeated, you are. Even though you are only a football-field length from land and the depth may be shallow, drop your net on the right side of the boat. I know you have fished all night. I realize that you have prior personal experience that now governs your behavior, but follow my lead and try again. Certainly you are tired, frustrated, and worn out. You’ve been riding an emotional roller coaster for the past week or so, but don’t give up; try again."

So why did these sleep-deprived, frustrated, defeated disciples consider the words of a total stranger? Because deep inside them was a seed of hope. They wanted to keep going, but they allowed their circumstances to block their advancement. Their decision to throw that water-logged net again, just as they had done countless times through the night, was the first step. Catching the fish was preceded by the hope of catching the fish and the will to catch the fish. Had they not wanted to succeed, had they conceded to defeat, had they thrown in the towel instead of throwing out the net, they would’ve never caught all those fish.

As the net began to sink, the ropes began to tighten and faces began to smile, and voices began to say "Woo hoo," and hope began to blossom from that tiny seed that lay dormant deep inside them. The astuteness of the author of this gospel indicated the identity of the man on the beach. John said to Peter, "It is the Lord!"

Peter was so excited that he jumped into the Sea and swam the one hundred yards to the shore. The other disciples rowed a boat ashore dragging the fish-filled net. At Jesus’ request to bring some of the newly caught fish, Peter brought the net onto land, and miraculously, the net contained 153 large fish, yet the net had not torn.

Everyone knows that nets bring in all kinds of fish, diverse and varied. These fish were large fish, keepers, to use the angler vernacular. Evidently, first-century fishing nets, like 21^st century nets had their limits. Today, certain hand-held nets snap easily with the sudden movement of sizeable rockfish from the Chesapeake Bay, although that has not yet been my luxury. Yet the fishing net thrown by the disciples did not break, even though it contained more than the limit imposed by its manufacturers. This is how Jesus showed himself to the disciples at Galilee.

Can we catch too many fish? Is there a place for everyone at Hampton Baptist? Do we ever wonder if our net might break, if our system would be impaired by catching too many fish? Can we have too many volunteers?

Every fish in the net was not identical. Paul compared the church to the body of Christ, indicating that as a body has many members (many parts of the body), so a church also has many members. Each body part has specific duties, responsibilities and talents. An eye is intended to see. A nose cannot hear; hair cannot speak.

Can we catch too many fish? Depends upon the strength of our net and if we fish even when we feel defeated. Upon the command of Jesus to keep trying, the net was strong enough to hold as much hope as they could find. Fishing is an exercise in hope; there’s a reason that it is called fishing, and not catching.

Our text began with these words, "Jesus showed himself in this way." And against the backdrop of National Volunteer Week, we know that Jesus continues to show himself through the work of volunteers at Hampton Baptist. Your actions are the work of Christ; as members of the body of Christ, you are acting as the hands and feet of God, in whatever capacity you serve.

But also in light of this week’s tragedy at Virginia Tech, I’ve got to add that Jesus has shown himself this week through hope seized by so many. The easy route for the Virginia Tech community would be to throw in the towel rather than to throw out the net again. To continue fishing, to continue working, to go on with life when we are hurt, grieving, and exhausted reveals hope. What we do with tragedy, how we handle adversity, how we respond to that voice that says "try again" even when we’ve done everything we know how to do, when we think we have tried everything, becomes a testimony to our faith. Finding immeasurable hope amid despair continues to motivate us to volunteer, to work, and to share that hope with others.

Can we catch too many fish? Speaking as a novice fisherman, an encouraged pastor, a Hokie supporter, and an endeavoring follower of Jesus Christ, I emphatically declare, "Absolutely not." May you and I continue to respond to the hope-filled words of the resurrected Christ, "Keep trying. Don’t give up. I have already overcome every problem, even death itself."